Page 90 of A Vow So Soulless

I stumble, then spin around to face him, already sucking in a huge breath to tell him off. But that breath stutters right out of me when Elio wraps his fingers around my throat and slams his mouth to mine.

Surprise, anger, and desire all melt together until I can’t tell them apart. Elio’s mouth is hot and urgent on mine, and there’s no way I can remain closed to him. My lips part under the onslaught, and he doesn’t hesitate even for a moment before shoving his tongue inside. Claiming.

His hand slides down from my throat to my waist, and before I can react I’m being turned towards the desk. The cool leather of Elio’s hand finds the back of my neck, exerting a gentle warning of pressure.

“Bend over.”

“No,” I seethe. But even as I say it, even as furious as I am, there’s terrible, wanton warmth blooming between my legs. I try to buck out of his grip, but he’s right behind me, his massive body caging me in against the desk. The wood chews into my hipbones and something else hard grinds against my ass. I gasp and moan, then slam my treacherous mouth shut.

“Watch yourself, Songbird,” Elio murmurs against the sensitive skin of my ear. “Just because I only have one good hand doesn’t mean that I can’t punish you exactly the way you need right now. Now bend the fuck over or I will make you.”

His fingers massage the base of my skull, exerting tender tension that I know can turn hard and brutal any moment.

He can make me bend over. He can make me do anything he wants to.

Even make me care about him. And that’s the most damning part.

Breathing heavily but trying to hide it, I hinge at the hips until my breasts and belly are mashed against the smooth wood of the desk. Needing something to hold onto, I grip the far edge of the desk, my knuckles white with pressure.

“Fuck. Love seeing you wear that ring,” Elio groans as he tugs my leggings and panties down to my knees. I raise my eyes, chin hitting wood, to see the sparkle of it against my curled fist. I’m suddenly reminded of my second night with Elio, when he took me to the gala and made me wear a literal collar of diamonds. This is a type of collar too. An even more permanent and meaningful one.

One that, ultimately, I have chosen.

My whole body jolts with painfully needy awareness when the smooth, naked tip of Elio’s cock slides against my pussy.

“You’re already wet,” he breathes heavily from behind me. I hold my breath, scrunching my eyes shut in shameful anticipation. I don’t even mean to, but I rise up on the balls of my feet, already trying to angle myself for him to enter me.

“Oh, Songbird,” Elio coos darkly, swirling his tip against me, soaking himself with my wetness. “I’ve been neglecting this pretty, greedy little pussy, haven’t I?” Gloveless fingers reach beneath his cock and between my legs from behind, circling my clit until I’m shaking.

“Tell me,” he says, his voice going hard and rough, “did you want me while I was stuck in bed? Did you pet this sweet little pussy while imagining my cock sliding into you?”

I can’t hold my breath anymore. It whooshes out of me, shaped sloppily around the word no.

Elio’s hand instantly withdraws from my clit and I want to fucking scream.

It returns to me, though, in the form of a crisp slap against my ass.

“Don’t lie to me.”

I hate that he even knows I’m lying now. Because I did, I fucking did touch myself, angling myself away from the camera in the bathroom while I showered. Or sometimes even right beside him while he slept.

“Tell me what you did.”

When I don’t answer immediately, another slap rings out and makes my flesh jump. He’s never spanked me without his leather glove on. It feels different, oddly intimate, and makes every nerve buzz with stinging arousal.

He follows that up with one more crisp smack, then rubs my throbbing skin.

“Tell. Me.”

“I… touched myself,” I choke out, not feeling an ounce of relief with the admission, only horror and shame. Elio doesn’t seem horrified, though. I can literally feel his cock jerk against my pussy at my words, and his breath hitches.

“Where?” he demands.

“You know where!” I cry. “Between my legs, where else?”

That earns me a quick, smart slap to the ass. Tears fill my eyes, but not because I’m sad or scared. And it isn’t even just a physical response to the shock of the spanking, either. It’s like something inside me is breaking down. Some lever of control starting to crack and falter. I’ve been so scared with Elio sick in bed. So worried about maintaining control of the rapidly deteriorating situation. Giving it up now, submitting to Elio who’s so strong and healthy and fucking alive, feels like the darkest sort of salvation.

“Did you touch yourself here?” His hand skims from my smarting ass to my clit, thrumming a quick, demanding rhythm that has me convinced I’m already about to come. “Or here?” He slides his fingers back and dips two of them into my quivering pussy.

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